Tangled
by Queen of Jinxing
Summary: Romano was the King of Thieves, and was able to steal anything and everything he could want- and he did. While on the run, however, he meets a loud mouth with magic hair and an ability to blackmail that Romano was damning. All Alfred wanted was to see the Explosions in the Kingdom and get back before Elizabeta could beat him with her skillet. Things are never that easy, though.
1. Chapter 1

The sun was nowhere in sight when it happened, having long since retired over the horizon. There was blood everywhere- so much blood.

Lovino coughed in surprise, red sprinkling from his lips as he did so, and allowed his hands to grip the blade protruding through his abdomen, the pain of his new cuts feeling like pin pricks compared to his most pressing injury.

Alfred, for once in his young life, was at a loss for words. His mouth moved silently, his ears heard Lovino telling him to run but...

The Great Romano, the King of Thieves, had blood flying from his lips as he did what he did best: scream.

* * *

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, there was a forest. The trees were huge, there are plenty of happy animals, and a little cottage also called the quiet place home. The small building sits in the middle of a tiny meadow, deep in the large woods, and houses two people- though, usually only one was home. However, today was different.

Alfred F. Héderváry was running about the house, curses flying expertly from his lips as he slipped and tumbled, tearing through everything in his path and cleaning with a ferocity no human being should be capable of. You would think, what with the teen being locked within these four walls and having the attention span of a fruit fly, that the house would be spotless- having nothing better to do than clean. You'd be so very wrong.

Alfred is a lazy procrastinator, and spends his days sneaking out, exploring- if he happens to run into and wrestle a stray bear while he's scoping out the world, than so be it-, and napping. Nowhere on his to-do-list is 'scrub the bathroom', 'do the laundry', or 'clean under the couch, something moved'.

But today, as you could see by his 'speed cleaning', is special. Today, Elizabeta is coming home.

And Al is scared shitless, because if she saw this mess, she's beat him unconscious.

Don't get him wrong; Eliza is a great woman... just scary in a way that's really uncalled for sometimes.

She took him in years ago when she found him half-dead in the middle of nowhere, carried him back to her place (located in a remote setting due to the fact that most people tend to piss her off), cared for him, and didn't freak out too much when they both discovered his hair glowed (which they found out on the first- and last- time they went outside... but that's a story for another day). They're like family... but, though she loves him, Alfred really pisses Elizabeta off sometimes. It's not his fault!... Just his entire personality and all of his habits grate on her nerves in ways never before tried.

Like his messiness, impulsiveness, Hero Voice, Hero Laugh, and the undying curiosity and subtle rebellion that courses through his very being to name a few. Each time she visits, he's usually reintroduced to her trusty frying pan pretty quickly because of any number of these things.

Fortunately, she only visits once a month for a few days!

Unfortunately, she only visits _once a month..._ For a _fe__w days!_

Then he's left here, alone, for the rest of the time. Not allowed outside (he became frighteningly good at picking locks and squeezing out of too small windows), and he has no form of company. No friends. No pets.

All for a stupid reason he tries his hardest not to think about.

He tripped over a table that he was almost positive was not there before and fell straight to the unforgiving floor, sending dishes flying.

And this is what Elizabeta Héderváry came home to. The house in shambles, water still running even as the sink filled and spilled to the floor, the trash can somehow blazing in a bright orange and red fire, and Alfred swearing colorfully as he picked up pieces of broken glass, his glasses sliding down his nose.

Justice for all of this was served swiftly (it would also have been silent if not for her war-like cry) by her and the pan she kept on her person at all times; Al was hit so hard he was knocked through the opposite wall before he could turn and see what made that ungodly noise.


	2. Chapter 2

It was with practice that Elizabeta learned how to hit a person with a blunt instrument and not cause the person to bleed... Externally, at least.

The ice pack Alfred held to his head was melting on the table now, it's sole purpose was to guilt the Hungarian woman into making him food (which worked), and now he was staring at her nervously as she seemed to dance around the kitchen. Her clothes were simple and cheap, a pair of dark green pants that reached mid-calf bellowed as she moved and a thin shirt for the summer months had it's sleeves rolled up to her elbows; she didn't even bother for an apron due to the fact that both articles of clothing were stained and ruined when they attacked what was living under the sofa. She'd discarded her boots at the door and was going bare foot, and made almost no sound as she danced and glided across the floor. Eliza was really graceful when she's happy.

That happiness probably wasn't going to last after he asked the question that was on his mind; the revelation caused him to wince.

"Eliza...?"

In only an hour after his waking, they'd cleaned the entire house, doused a fire, and began cooking dinner- Al complaining every minute of it. Eliza was frying burgers using the same weapon that caused him to fall into an unwanted slumber, humming as she did so.

"Yes, dear?" She asked pleasantly, not turning to look at him. Al was thankful for that because he was squirming in his seat. If his many years with the feisty woman has taught him anything, it's to show no hesitation when dealing with something important. Especially with her.

Fear meant a frying pan to the face.

Weakness means weeks without waking.

Elizabeta Héderváry didn't associate with pansies so she damn sure wasn't going to raise one and send them out into the world... one day.

"Well... Today's my birthday, ya know?" he questioned, mentally kicking himself for his voice cracking; thankfully, she either didn't notice or really care.

"Oh, yes!" the woman of the house almost sang, long brown hair flying as she swung around and bustled over to the luggage that she abandoned by the door in favor of beating the blond until he could no longer scream.

Said blond shivered slightly as he picked himself up off the floor, the chair he once occupied was tipped over and discarded a couple feet away. Either he was in her way or she just wanted to push him. Both were completely plausible.

"I got you a present! Look!" She fanned out ten pictures, boys and girls captured in each with various expressions on their faces; the most common were confusion and fear. The contraption used to make these was nestled in her traveling case, the same place she pulled out the photos, and away from all harm (read: Alfred). It was a gift from many years ago, from the teen himself, though, as he rolled his eyes and stalked over once he stood from the ground, he wished the idea had never popped into his head.

* * *

A young boy was trapped in a big (it seemed at the time, anyway) place, alone and usually scared. Though his lock picking skills hadn't developed yet, his imagination had- turning every noise into something far worse than in really was, and don't even mention the thunderstorms. The only person that he could even remember was Elizabeta, and she had an amazing ability to scare the monsters away, but her stays were always short and unpredictable.

It took days to travel to the kingdom, longer to track down and all but stalk random people, find someone to paint those people, then make sure they were accurate by stalking the person some more. This process was repeated _many_ times before the results were satisfactory. Finally, she would trudge back home with her prizes, many of which would become ruined by the elements (once a squirrel took one- she doesn't like to talk about it). When she finally got back, she was in such a bad mood that she'd stay in her room for days!

After she had her fit, she's emerge (groggy and usually confused as to what day it was), clean herself up, and sit down with the excitable 8 year old to pick out the best looking person (usually male). Once that long ordeal is over, she'd hang it up to remind her to find out more about that person when she goes into town again.

It was very creepy and the boy hated it with a passion- in fact, that's how he became acquainted with the emotion.

This is what drove him into developing a machine that could create a portrait in the blink of an eye; the result being colored, dry, and small. Needless to say, it was a project of trial and error; it took him over a year to finally get it right- on the third to final try he nearly blinded himself and set the house on fire- but he did it! Right after New Years it was tested, retested, and approved. To this day, he has no idea how he managed to wait until march to give it to her for her birthday... Maybe it was because it took her a month and a half to get back (which may or may not have been because she decided to drag a bust with her this time).

* * *

She still claims it as the best present anyone had ever gotten her. Now, she's able to make monthly trips back home (yet Al still refuses to clean until last minute), bringing pictures of men she thinks will suit him. This has been the norm for as long as he can remember and the reason he's not allowed outside.  
The brunette doesn't think he's capable of finding someone (read: a man) for himself, so she's taken the burden from him. Alfred thinks that the glee she gets from playing cupid is unholy and the glint she gets in her eye when thinking or speaking of it almost sinful.

Yet, despite that sinful glint being present in green-green eyes right now, he crouched down before the pictures on the floor, his blue eyes widening in surprise. And it wasn't because there were women in this stack, because a gift from Eliza for every holiday or celebration would be to throw a few in (however, they never checked out), nor was the three in fine clothing among the peasants. Upper class.

It was because one of those three had his face. The coloring and measurements were a little off, but there was no denying it.

"What...?"

"Yes- do you like it? I pulled a few favors and got pictures of the royal family! Do you have any idea how- no, of course you don't. The castle's been closed off-"

Alfred blocked out her ranting easily, a product of many years of practice, and stared thoughtfully at his one of the 'royals'.

"Prince Matthew, huh? Sorry, Alfie, you can look, but can't touch. He hasn't even been out of the castle in ten years... but I do recommend the gardener, Kiku Honda."

It was a little while longer of looking over people and choosing (they settled on an adorable girl with green eyes and a bow in her blonde hair, and Kiku- at Eliza's insistence) before they smelled something burning.

It was the food.

As the eldest of the two rushed to the kitchen, screaming profanities all the way, to save her favorite skillet, the younger followed after her, yelling his own string of words. He was forced to retire to a safe distance after a scolding hot pan came a little too close for comfort and almost seared Nantucket. To his dying day he'll deny crying at the sight of the charred meat.

But a tear or two did run down his cheek.

Needless to say, dinner didn't go as planned, so Eliza whipped up a quick supper of beef stew before they sat down and mourned their losses.

The moment of silence, however, was broken by the blond.

"I know what I want for my birthday." he blurted out, not looking at his guardian. Instead, he studied the soft, brown fabric of his pants and fiddled with the hem of his light blue shirt.

"Hmm?" Not many people know this, but the best time to ask Elizabeta for something is either when she owes you, or when she's in deep thought. Today, it was the latter.

"Well, you know how I've always wanted to see the Explosions?" Every year, for as long as he remembers, the sky was filled with bursts of color and blasts of sound four days after today, coming from the direction of town. And every year, he has to watch them from his window.

"Mhmm..." Good, she's too lost to get on him about beating around the bush. This should be easy!

"Since I'm 18 now, can I go see them? It'll be super quick, I'll be there and back- I swear!" At some point in his speech, he switched to his Hero Voice, and began yelling in his excitement. This made Eliza look up from her food to give a dead-panned expression.

"Al, you know-"

"But I'm an adult now!"

"You know how much I hate it when you interrupt me!" she yelled, slamming her hand on the table for good measure, and Alfred flinched back.

There was always a chance she'd realize what he was doing, it happened so many times before, and hit him with her frying pan... That she no longer had...  
All of a sudden, Alfred was feeling a lot more ballsy. He stood up, slamming his own hand on the table, effectively cracking it, and made Eliza lean back in her chair with wide eyes.

"I've wanted to see the Explosions for years, but you keep me locked up like a prisoner! Elizabeta, I love you, but I can't live like this-"

"You are under my roof- I took you in and what do you do to repay me? Disrespect me in such a manner?" Each word was said slowly, her accent thickened as they rolled off her tongue, and she steadily rose to her feet. Her head was tilted in a manner that used her long, wavy locks to hide her face from view.

Even though Alfred was easily half a foot taller than her, he couldn't help but feel about the size of an ant- just as he always did when she does this. He flinched back, but stayed his ground.

"Eliz-"

"No! Do not speak, I'm not through! I've done everything for you, an amnesiac that could barely remember his own name, and on the exact day I took you under my wing, you scream in my face and treat me like scum!" At this point she splayed her hands against the abused table top, the protesting squeak drowned out. "You ungrateful-"

"I just want to see-"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME AGAIN!" she roared in his face, making him wince, and birds in the vicinity squawked in fright and took off.

If only Al could do the same.

"You will leave this house when I deem you ready- which won't be any time soon with the way you've been acting! Like a spoiled little child!"

They stared hard at each other, eyes narrowed and faces contorted into ugly sneers... until Alfred blinked and looked away, slowly sinking down into his seat.

"...I know what I want for my birthday now..." he informed with the softest voice he could manage, somehow keeping all bitterness and anger from his tone.

"I swear to God, if you ment-!"

"Remember when you went to Germainia and brought me back those hamburgers? Can I get some of those?"

Slowly, the Hungarian's eyes softened and she brought up a hand to rub tiredly at her face.

"That's a week's trip, Al..."

"Jus' thought it was better than... anything else." They locked eyes and, after a few moments, she blinked slowly and let out a tired sigh.

"I'll set out tomorrow..."


End file.
